Spirits in Bondage: A Cycle of Lyrics

Long leagues on either hand the trenches spread And all is still; now even this gross line Drinks in the frosty silences divine The pale, green moon is riding overhead.

But we shall wake again in gardens bright Of green and gold for infinite delight, Sleeping beneath the solemn mountains white, While from the flowery copses still unseen Sing ou...

Suddenly there came to me The music of a mighty sea That on a bare and iron shore Thundered with a deeper roar Than all the tides that leap and run With us below the real sun: B...